


I dreamt a dream

by Fluffypanda



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bottom Steve Rogers, Hand Jobs, M/M, Nipple Play, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Rimming, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-08 11:11:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19105930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluffypanda/pseuds/Fluffypanda
Summary: By day Steve Rogers is struggling to get along. He can barely put food on the table, let alone pay for his health care.By night Steve works at a synth brothel, playing out customers' fantasies in the hopes that one day he'll be able to walk home in a perfect body. He just wasn't expecting Tony Stark to show up.





	I dreamt a dream

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #10 - Met in a brothel
> 
> Title from The Angel by William Blake
> 
> Thank you to [willidothefandango](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagth/pseuds/willidothefandango) and [one and five nines](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obani/pseuds/One%20and%20Five%20Nines) for all the help!

The night’s scheduled rain had already begun by the time Bucky came through the door. Steve raised his eyebrows, watching him as he tossed his dripping coat on the chair and stomped over to bathroom to stand under the dryer.

“I know, I know. I got caught up at the docks. Some idiot coming in from Syrtis Major thought he could skip decontamination. The whole fucking ship was infested with red mites!” Bucky had to raise his voice a little to be heard over the noise, but he was never far away in their shoebox apartment.

“I ate without you,” Steve said around the lingering tightness in his chest.

“What’s on?” He asked, peeking inside the pot. “Nutri-rice, again?”

It was one of the cheapest, tastiest foods they could afford. “Wind was blowing in from the plants. I had to use another half-dose of Atomostral.”

“Shit.” Bucky dropped the dish on the table with a heavy thud. “Alright, I’ll see if I can get Gabe to let me pick up another shift.”

“You’re already putting in twice as many hours as me.”

“I gotta win Dot over somehow.” Bucky took a bite of his food and waved his spoon at Steve. “I think I’m wearing her down. A few extra hours a day in my charming company will seal the deal.”

“Bucky…she’s not going to go out with you.”

“You don’t know that,” Bucky said, his mouth half-full.

Steve sighed and ducked into his sleeping nook. “Alright, I’m gonna clock in for the night.”

When Steve pulled his NeuralCast down from its shelf, a half-thought floated up to meet him: Natasha had probably woken up by now. He blinked, a little surprised by the stray thought. When he focused on it, he had an impression of a woman emerging from a tank and heading to the showers, her pale skin and red hair washed out by the faded recollection, but not much beyond that.

He knew about Natasha, of course, but memories from the other side were dream-like and tore like cobwebs when he tried to take hold of them.

“You should get some real sleep sometime, not whatever it is you get pulling night shifts like this.”

Bucky was one to talk, Steve had seen him with a sync band on more than one occasion, though he didn’t clock in nearly as often as Steve did. It never did any good to confront him, he refused to discuss it. Steve could hardly blame him if he was getting the same kind of clientele Steve was.

“Good night, Buck,” Steve said and pointedly shuttered his privacy screen.

Holding the NeuralCast’s thin band delicately between his fingers, Steve took a deep breath. He slipped it over his head before laying back to rest his head on his pillow. His eyes fluttered and then drifted closed as his mind was pulled away.

 

 

Steve jolted upright with a gasp. He coughed and spluttered as med gel streamed off the body he now inhabited and back into the tank. His chest heaving, he clawed at the glass, desperate for air. His heart pounded with a deep instinctual fear of suffocation, burned into him despite the knowledge that the gel was oxygenated enough that this synthetic body could choke on it indefinitely.

With one final cough, the last of the gel cleared from his lungs. He took one deep breath, deeper than he could manage in his real body, and then another, his chest rising up and down in a comfortable rhythm.

He rubbed the residue from his eyes and caught sight of disconcertingly long, muscular legs framing a thick, shapely cock. They led up to a narrow waist with washboard abs and an equally muscular chest—perfect, the definition of a synth body.

He felt sick. The difference was jarring, no matter how many times he plugged in.

He counted to three and looked in the mirror, concentrating on the familiar face there. They said that keeping your own face was to stop you from going crazy, that you could adjust better to a new body if you could see something familiar in the mirror. Steve wasn’t sure how true that was, but it was reassuring to find his own eyes staring back at him.

The mirror fogged as his breaths condensed into little puffs and his body heated back up to an operational temperature. Steve shivered, finally registering how cold the tank actually was.

All around Steve were others awaking in their own tanks, or settling down in them now that their shift was over. Moments before, he couldn’t quite picture Natasha’s face, but now the memories were crisp and clear. He looked for her amidst the crowd, but of course her shift would have already started.

A notice flashed across his vision, informing him he’d been requested in room 195 for the night. It must have been someone with money to burn if they could buy him for the whole night. He dismissed the notice with a blink and gripped either side of the tank to pull himself out. 

He crossed the room to the showers, steam billowing behind the translucent Climate Control Barrier. He immediately felt the difference in temperature, almost scalding compared to the iciness of the tank. Despite that, he just wanted to soak it in. He rinsed off the last of the residue from the tank and walked through the dryers.

Steve grimaced at the clothes dispensed to him once he stepped out: a series of silvery straps and lace and a pair of wings. He’d think someone at the front desk had it out for him, but if they did, they held the same grudge against half the courtesans in the house.

The straps and lace took some sorting, just when he thought he worked it out, it turned out he’d put his arms through what were actually garters. By the time he striped it all off to try again, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Need some help? You look like you’re going to strangle yourself with that.”

“Nat!” Steve turned to her, grinning. “I’ve got too much riding on this body to take it out with a piece of lingerie. On break already?”

She shrugged and picked up the biggest section of lace, wrapping it around Steve’s waist before moving on to the next. “I got amateurs. They didn’t know what hit ‘em.”

“They won’t make that mistake again.”

Natasha laughed and clipped the straps that went behind Steve’s neck. “Oh, I don’t know. Some men are very stupid.”

“I’ll give you that.” Steve shook his head and finished putting on the last pieces of his outfit, just the wings were left. “Mind helping me with these?”

Natasha hefted the wings up, pressing them against Steve’s back, just inside the shoulder blades. Steve shuddered when the wing’s neural hookups pierced the skin, the motion turned into an involuntary twitch in the feathers as the connection completed.

Natasha slapped Steve on the shoulder before leaning back against the mirror with a smirk.

Steve ignored her and examined his reflection. The lingerie seemed to be doing everything it could to exaggerate his figure. Its lace and straps crisscrossed his body in such a way that made his waist appear more trim and his chest almost looked like it was spilling out. He was only given a small pair of matching lace panties that barely contained his cock.

It felt tawdry to be dressed up like this for whoever was paying for him tonight. He should be used to it by now. Whatever happened here didn’t really matter, it wasn’t really him. He was playing out someone’s dreams with a doll. It would be hardly more than a dream to his waking self.

“You know brothels aren’t the only ones with synths,” she eventually said.

Steve shook his head. “The military isn’t an option. I failed the aptitudes. You couldn’t pay them to take me without going through correction.”

The standard military synth had neural pathways primed for obedience, loyalty, and brutality. Putting a mind that didn’t fit the profile was known to result in violent meltdowns. The government’s solution was to mold the recruits to match the synth, with their consent of course. The house’s models were more flexible, the pathways forming according to the mind inhabiting it.

“No one should have to go through that.”

“I’ve gotta go, there’s a client waiting for me.” Steve turned to leave.

Nat caught his elbow. “I just know when you walk into work every day like you’re headed to your execution you might be in the wrong business.”

“The rent isn’t gonna wait for me to find my life’s calling.” His body, his actual body, might not either. “It’s only for a few more years, and then…” And then he’d own this body.

“You sure you can last that long?”

Steve headed for the door. “I’ve lasted this long, haven’t I?”

 

 

When Steve arrived at room 195, daylight poured in from simulated roman countryside and curtains billowed in a non-existent wind, giving the whole space the illusion of open air. A platter of real fruit and cheese had been laid out on a low table. The client had already draped himself over a divan like it was a throne as he partook of the refreshments.

He paused to watch Steve enter, sucking in a breath before he shook himself. That’s when Steve noticed his dark eyes were lit up by an ongoing call. He also looked familiar – Tony Stark, Steve realized with a jolt.

“I know, Obie. You can harangue me later. I’m out celebrating,” he said, swirling the glass of amber liquid in his hand before knocking it back.

He scoffed, “Do I need a reason?”

“Later, I’ve got company.” Stark turned the full force of his attention to Steve as he hung up. There was something about the way he said  _ company _ that made Steve want to squirm.

He bit into a strawberry and in one smooth motion he deposited his glass on the table and approached Steve.

“Hello, Angel.” He ran his fingers through Steve’s wings with an amused expression. “I told them you looked heaven-sent, but I wasn’t expecting the whole costume.”

“It suits you,” he added, tilting Steve’s chin down.

He searched Steve’s eyes for some kind of answer, smiling seductively when he apparently found it. Slowly, he leaned in for a kiss, gentle at first, but soon graduated to biting Steve’s lip. His mouth was strawberry-sweet as it took Steve’s, almost dizzyingly so.

Steve gasped when released.

“I think I can work with this.” Stark said, his hand cupping Steve’s cock.

“What?” Steve asked dazed.

Stark sank to his knees and pulled Steve’s cock free. “Well, I was planning to get this cock in my mouth.” He licked a hot stripe up Steve’s cock, curling his tongue around the tip. “Any objections?”

“N-no,” Steve panted, blood rushed down to his cock.

Stark took it in his mouth and began to bob his head. Steve gasped at the warmth enveloping him and he was brought to full hardness.

“Call my name. You know who I am, don’t you?”

“…Tony?”

Tony rewarded him by swallowing Steve’s generous length down.

Steve’s hands trembled at his sides. Stark pulled them to the back of his head and Steve gratefully sunk his fingers into his fluffy hair.

“Tony,” Steve moaned, shivering as Tony worked his cock, his arousal ratcheting tighter until it snapped and he came down Tony’s throat. His knees nearly gave out on him and he had to lean on Tony for support.

Tony chuckled, his voice rough. “Alright, Angel, think you can move?”

Even with the enhancements Steve’s brain took a moment to catch up, but he nodded.

“Get on the bed.”

His feet were planted in the ground, but somehow he stumbled over and crawled onto the bed on his hands and knees, hips swaying. His cock had already begun to harden again; synth bodies didn’t need a refractory period.

“On your back, legs spread.”

Steve turned over, his wings splayed out to either side of him. Tony knelt between his legs, taking a moment to comb through the feathers before moving his hands to Steve’s hips, sliding under the lace. Steve expected him to get out his cock, but instead he slid his hands along the sensitive skin, tracing down Steve’s thighs.

“I could just play with you all night, make you feel good.”

“Isn’t that my job?” Now that Steve thought about it, he hadn’t seen Tony touch his own cock once.

“Am I getting in the way of your job? Do you want to make me feel good?”

Steve scowled at him.

“Far be it for me to put a hard working angel out of a job.” He spread his arms out. “I’m at your mercy.”

Steve sat up, his eyes flickering over Tony, wishing he hadn’t said anything. He wasn’t quite sure where to start. Clients usually took the lead, telling or showing Steve what they wanted.

But he couldn’t keep Tony waiting, so Steve kissed him experimentally, cupping his cheek. He then ran his fingers through Tony’s beard and down his neck, unbuttoning the shirt so he could slide a hand over his chest.  

He felt confident enough for a hand job so he reached over for the bottle of lube and pulled down Tony’s pants to access his cock. He squeezed a generous portion of lube into his hand. He spent a few seconds getting a feel for Tony’s cock, smearing the lube across its length, before he began stroking it.

While Steve concentrated on that, Tony’s hands wandered up his sides. Soon they were on Steve’s chest, massaging the muscles there with a single minded intensity.

“You have gorgeous tits.” He leaned forward to briefly capture Steve’s nipple between his teeth.

Steve’s rhythm faltered. He made a high pitched noise.

"What’s wrong? Carry on, Angel."

Steve glared at Tony, but all it earned him was a smirk. The asshole was playing with him, trying to trip him up. With renewed determination, Steve turned his attention back to Tony’s cock.

Tony ran his thumb over the sensitive nipple.

“You know, I’m starting to think you don’t want to get off,” Steve gritted out.

“Oh, believe me, I do, but we’ve only just started. I want to savor this.” He gently pulled Steve’s hand from his cock. “Come on, lay down for me.”

He guided Steve down so that he was face down on the bed with his ass in the air. He pulled Steve’s panties to the side. Steve felt a breath ghosting over his skin and then a tongue swiped across his hole. Steve sucked in a huge breath and buried his face in the bed covers, his wings mantling over him. Steve fought back mortification at the thought of someone’s mouth down there. Really, with a synth body, it was as clean as it could be.

With a satisfied huff, Tony went back in, working his tongue past the ring of muscle with persistent licks. Steve couldn’t help but moan when Tony began delving deeper, twisting his tongue inside him. It was almost more than Steve could bear.

“Tony, Tony, Tony,” Steve panted.

Finally Tony took pity on him and pulled away. “So beautiful, gorgeous. You’re perfect, Angel.”

“Steve,” Steve said into sheets.

“What was that?”

“Call me Steve,” he said, lifting his head a little bit.

It was stupid giving his name to a client like this, but Steve couldn’t help but want to hear it fall from Tony’s lips. It was a common enough name, it probably wouldn’t hurt.

Tony kissed the small of Steve’s back and whispered, “Steve.”

“Please,” Steve pleaded, not really sure what for. “Please.”

“I’ve got you.” 

Tony’s hands were on Steve’s hips again as he kissed his way up Steve’s spine. He scraped his teeth on the patch of skin between Steve’s quivering wings, sucking at it. He moved his hands up to Steve’s chest, kneading it. He played with Steve’s nipples, rolling them under his fingers.

Then Steve felt the press of Tony’s cock against his ass. He eagerly rocked back into it, his wings flexing outward.

“So good for me,” Tony murmured, lining up with Steve’s hole. “Steve, you are so good.”

Rocking his hips, he pushed in a little at a time until he was all the way in. His hands found Steve’s chest again, cupping it as he pounded Steve’s ass relentlessly.

“Tony!”

Steve reached a hand back to his aching cock and stroked it in time with Tony’s thrusts. He was getting closer, he could feel it. The urgency of Tony’s thrusts told Steve that he was too. Finally Tony stuttered to a halt, coming warm bursts inside Steve. Steve let himself tumble over the edge too and came all over his hand. 

They collapsed on the bed together, out of breath. Steve mustered up enough energy to pull Tony beneath his wing and get comfortable. They had plenty of time—and not nearly enough. One night, that was all.

The light softened under the tent of feathers, casting Tony in a more intimate glow.

Tony gently stroked Steve’s face, looking like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. “You’re perfect.”

“So you’ve said.” Steve smiled, but something in his chest ached.

Tony was a client, buying Steve for the night. He only saw the dream, a perfect version of Steve. Steve just knew he wouldn’t look twice if he passed Steve on the street.

Tony laughed and placed a row of kisses along Steve’s throat. “I guess I did. You’re surprisingly cheeky for an angel.”

“Well, I’m only a part-time angel.”

“That explains it.” He laughed again. “Want to see how many times I can make you come before the night is over?”

Casting any hesitation away, Steve pulled Tony closer in and whispered, “Yes.”

Anything to make the dream last.

 

 

Epilogue

Steve sat up in bed and pulled the NeuralCast’s band from his head. The ghost of Tony’s lips lingered on his skin and for a moment he still smelled his cologne mingled with the scent of sex.

Then he heard Bucky at the stove preparing breakfast and the smoky-sweet scent of soy bacon filled the air, and it was gone. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, think about reblogging [the tumblr post!](https://ayapandagirl.tumblr.com/post/185989281203/i-dreamt-a-dream)


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